Jack O' Lantern
by Jessahme Wren
Summary: AU post-S8 oneshot.  Now living in D.C., Jack and Renee visit Chloe's home in Virginia. Angst-Free/Fluff-Free challenge.


Birthdays/holidays both distract and excite me. This particular image would not go away, so here we are. Poor Jack is still on that ship, although drying out now, and my apologizes for ignoring him.

This is very much my attempt at a "ledge" fic, a challenge at www.. Angst-Free, Fluff-Free, and as an extra personal challenge, a holiday fic that doesn't induce groans and eye-rolls. _Hopefully_ I succeeded in that. I place the 24 gang into a different version of a post 8 AU, so it will be interesting to hear any thoughts. I certainly enjoyed writing it!

Happy Halloween, everyone :).

-0-0-0-

Leaves crunched under Chloe's feet as she adjusted her stance. The backyard was littered with the small gnarled fingers of larger limbs that, having snapped under the rigid wind, now intermingled with the burned-paper trappings of maple and birch. The few trees that had retained their finery rustled faintly in the late afternoon cool.

"I fail to see the point of this Jack."

Chloe scrunched her face as she peered down the barrel of the Glock. Jack stood to the left of her, ever watchful, occasionally adjusting her hold on the gun. His tan face was slightly chapped and his hair, just a little longer than his usual close-cropped style, waggled faintly in the breeze.

"The point is, you need to know how to shoot. Now loosen your grip a bit."

She rolled her eyes and depressed the trigger once, twice, three times. "You seem to be forgetting about that terrorist I wasted."

Jack chuffed, grinning at the word "wasted." It had all the mellifluence that most words like that had when Chloe said them, and it never failed to make him smile.

"I haven't forgotten. But everyone could use some practice." She watched as he raised his gun and emptied the clip into his own target, his forearms tense. The muscles there flexed minutely with practiced rhythm, an action as easy to him as breathing.

She was glad he'd gone back to CTU, even if his position was mostly training now. Since he and Renee had tried to make a go of it, Jack had made the decision to scale back his field work. And since they were both back in D.C., Prescott could see his "Uncle Jack" a lot more often.

"Sweetheart, now that you've scared off every crow in the bloody neighborhood, dinner's almost ready."

Chloe pressed her lips together firmly, replacing the noise-cancelling headphones that had hung previously neglected around her neck. She didn't turn around. Jack waved toward the large white house, to where Morris stood in the screen door of the broad porch. "We're almost done here," he called to him before turning to reset the target.

"Hey."

He would know that voice anywhere, and he turned to follow it. She was standing at the side of the house, where the backyard begins, in tall brown leather boots, leggings, a belted cowl neck sweater. She had a large pumpkin in her arms. Something inside him unknotted when he looked at her, and Jack laid his gun on the rail of the fence and walked steadily in her direction.

His eyes danced with amusement. "Where did you get this," he asked as he alleviated her burden and placed the pumpkin on the nearby patio table. She loosened her scarf. "Curbside market just in town. I figured it was only natural that Prescott should have a pumpkin on his birthday, especially since it's Halloween."

Ever since Renee's reinstatement with the FBI, she usually got home earlier than he did. But since they were meeting at Chloe's, she'd had to hassle with rush hour traffic as she crossed into Virginia.

Jack smiled and, hesitating only a moment, reached a hand around her small waist and kissed her. Her hair was long, and it hung silkily against her emerald green sweater and brushed the back of his other hand. Renee tasted like Chap Stick and spearmint gum.

"That was sweet of you," he said into her ear. She looked at him evenly as he pulled away, the ghosts of last night's argument still lingering, Jack could see. "Well, I have my moments," she said mildly. Her face was largely unreadable.

Chloe had noticed the new arrival and now made her away across the backyard. "Renee, I'm glad you could come." While Chloe was pleased to see her, her demeanor was characteristically nonchalant. She indicated the large pumpkin. "Is that for us?"

Renee gave a little embarrassed smile. "It's for Prescott, for his birthday."

Chloe returned the gesture, but it was fleeting. "I'm sorry Renee but Prescott's not even here. He went home with a friend after school, for Trick-or-Treating. Announced to me and his dad that he was 'old enough to do this on his own and we should just trust his judgment.'"

Renee laughed in surprise, a lilting giggle that Jack wished he could bottle for those really bad days (both hers and his). "Bossy isn't he?"

Jack looked at Renee, then at Chloe. "He gets it honest," he said wryly, which earned him a warning glance from Chloe.

"Well, I think I've had enough sharpshooter training for one day." She handed Jack the Glock and turned to go back into the house. "Thanks, sensei."

She made her way up the few steps and across the porch, leaving them alone.

The sun continued its slow descent, and as Renee stood there in its dying light, its rays sifting through her cranberry hair, he wanted nothing more than to gather her up, but he matched her gaze instead.

"How was work?"

She wrinkled her nose and the corners of her mouth dropped a little. "Kinda sucked."

Jack looked at her steadily. "Yeah, I kind of gathered that."

At first Jack had missed the simpatico of their working side-by-side, the balance of him and Renee in the field, but her absence during most of his day made their evening reunions all the more memorable. Not knowing what danger she may or may not be facing, however, was both a relief and a terror on a daily basis.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

She closed the space between them, wrapping her arms stiffly around his middle. She laid her head on Jack's shoulder and closed her eyes. Despite her embrace, her body was rigid. "Not really."

He tightened his arms around her, stroked her hair lightly as it fell down her back. "God, I'm sorry," he said tightly.

"Me too," she said into his neck. "I know you were just worried about me."

They were quiet for a few moments. She looked over Jack's shoulder, at the pumpkin that sat there obstructively on the patio table. "What they hell are we gonna do with that thing? We're not taking it back to D.C."

Jack walked over to it, placing a hand on its rotund form. "Well, it_ is_ Halloween..."

Renee looked as though he'd suddenly grown a horn above his right eyebrow. He smiled at her.

-0-0-0-

The shooting commenced, a parrying volley of sharp cracks in the evening stillness. Morris looked out of the kitchen window as Chloe set the table. "You know, we could never live in a development," he said as he turned from the window to lean against the kitchen sink. "Our friends are too weird."

She laughed in spite of herself.

Morris wrinkled his brow. "What the hell are they doing, anyway?"

Chloe looked past him, over his shoulder, at the two of them. Jack and Renee stood among the leaves, laughing between rounds, the two of them in perfect tandem. They emptied their guns (and frustrations) into the hapless bit of produce that sat positioned against the back fence.

"I think," Chloe said with no lack of affection, "that they're carving a pumpkin."


End file.
